Harry Potter- the Lost Boy
by foolingreality
Summary: What if Harry Potter didn't have the lighting bolt shaped scar on his forehead? What if he had never lived with the Dursleys? What if Harry Potter had been raised by his worst enemy? Lord Voldemort.
1. Chapter 1

**-TOP SECRET-**

Property of _The Order of The Phoenix_

 **IMPORTANT:** immediately after this letter is obtained and read, discard of it using the vanishing spell "evanssco" (ev-an-ES-ko)

Harry Potter has been found missing on July 31, 1980. Our sources believe that the infamous _He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named_ has kidnapped the boy and he is currently being raised in his care. James Potter has been pronounced dead by the Ministry of Magic while Lily Potter resides in Urgent Care at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. She is not accepting visitors at this time. The Order believes that she has a high risk of being under the influence of the Imperius Curse. Please be aware of the kidnapping of Harry Potter and if you hear ANYTHING about his whereabouts contact Albus Dumbledore or Sirius Black IMMEDIATELY. This is of the utmost importance.

Please be aware that The Order of The Phoenix is in section 5 of urgent precautions. This means that the probability for our employees and mission to overcome The Dark Lord is in great danger. The Order of The Phoenix may not be able to fight much longer. If you wish to stop receiving these letters please contact us, we understand if you cannot risk you and your family's life much longer.

Wishing you good luck and good health,

 _Albus Dumbledore_


	2. Chapter 2

Draco smiled slyly as he placed the silver and green wrapped package into Harry's hands.

"Happy Birthday, Harry." He said. His pale grey eyes meeting Harry's green ones shyly. They had been taught not to display too much affection, but right now Harry didn't care. It was his Birthday, he was allowed to thank his best friend, and practical brother.

"Thanks, Draco!" He said, and then, after a hesitation, he leaned in and hugged the other boy. Feeling Draco tense up and then, slowly, hug him back.

They pulled apart and Harry looked down at the package in his hands. It was soft and squishy. He looked at Draco questioningly and the boy grinned.

"Open it." He said, mischievously.

Just as Harry started peeling back the paper, a door opened on the other side of Draco's room. Draco scooted away from Harry and plastered a smile on his face that, did not reach his eyes.

"My Lord." Draco said, a real smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He glanced at Harry, hiding his amusement. Behind Voldemort's back they called him names: His Highness, Your Darklyness and many other titles. But the tall, hooded figure in the doorway took no heed of Draco's greeting, however. Tom Riddle's face was just visible underneath his cloak. Harry could feel his gaze penetrating his comfort zone.

Whenever the man looked at him, Harry felt like he was on display. Like Voldemort could see straight into his thoughts.

Harry faked a smile and slipped of the bed.

"Hello… Father." The name sounded strange on his lips, for he barely ever saw the man, but Narcissa said that was what he wanted Harry to call him.

"Harry…" Voldemort smiled, somehow without joy. He swept off his hood and raised his chin to his adopted son. Black hair was swept messily on the boy's forehead, and his face was… closed off. Like the boy didn't trust his own Father. Like, perhaps, somewhere deep down in his heart, he knew of James Potter's death and the fate that Lily Evans had taken. Annoyed, Voldemort shook off these unwelcome thoughts and focused again on Harry. "Happy… eleventh Birthday."

He withdrew a pale hand from within his cloak and beckoned Harry to the door. "Come downstairs, Harry, we have a celebration to complete." He turned, and strode slowly from the room. Harry, after an imploring glance at Draco, ' _come with me,'_ followed.

Draco Malfoy hesitated a second, before grabbing the forgotten Birthday present from the bed and following his friend downstairs.

They were greeted by a wave of polite clapping. The entrance hall was filled with witches and wizards that Harry recognized vaguely as mostly Voldemort's-

no, _Father's-_ Death Eaters and their families.

"I would like to welcome my son, Harry… Jace Potter, into our midst. This year he turns eleven years old, a year of utmost importance in the wizarding world. This is the year he goes to start his wizarding career, at non other than Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Voldemort said proudly, smiling a real smile for the first time.

There was another bout of polite clapping and Harry fidgeted from the top of the stairs, he was being forced to stand with Voldemort. The man's hand was on his shoulder and Harry could feel a cold chill coming from it. He glanced to his left and saw Draco standing next to the wall. Waiting for Harry and His Darklyness to go downstairs so he could join them without interrupting the speech. He smiled at Harry reassuringly. _You can do this._ Harry tried to smile back, but his lips felt like lead.

After what seemed like hours, Harry found himself being lead down the stairs and into the crowd. Many people were talking to him, but he only recognized a few people individually.

Bellatrix Lestrange. Lucius Malfoy. Crabbe and Goyle said hello but Harry shook them off, he didn't like something about their headstrong appearances. After about twenty minutes of this, Harry finally spotted Draco and Blasie Zabini sitting in the corner eating crisps. They looked very forlorn, so Harry went over to join them.

"Harry!" Draco said, grinning as he came over. He picked up the birthday gift from the bench beside him.

"You can open this now."

"You're going to love it." Blasie said, grinning as well.

Harry took the package excitedly. Ripping open the paper with anticipation. He tore back the last wrapping and onto his lap fell a green and silver bundle of cloth. He lifted it and realized it was a Slytherin banner, with a matching scarf and gloves. Harry grinned, esactic.

"This is great, Draco! I can wear it at Hogwarts!" He took the scarf and threw it around his neck dramatically.

"How do I look?" He asked, batting his eyelashes.

"Fabulous, darling, just gorgeous." Harry chortled.

"Thank you, Draco, but I'm _sure_ that's an exaggeration. I'm not _that_ fabulous." Harry played along, flipping imaginary hair over his shoulder.

"Oh but darling, you a _re."_


End file.
